It Takes One to Know One
by TheMemeGoddess
Summary: Apollo loses his first case and Phoenix Wright, the famed defense attorney who never loses, is arrested for murder. While Kristoph manages to escape the trial unscathed, he is still far from being free from his demons. What will paranoia cause him to do, and how far will he be willing to go to keep his image intact?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story contains spoilers for Apollo Justice. It should also be noted that I haven't played past Apollo Justice. The cover art is by Cessa on Deviantart.**

Kristoph stands up straight before the court with a small smile, hands folded in front of him. Apollo had just presented an ace with a single drop of blood on it to the court.

_This proves that he had a reason to swap the cards! _Apollo thinks, wiping the sweaty palm of his free hand on his slacks before balling it into a fist. _So… why is he smiling?_

"Justice," Kristoph says, breaking the room's silence. "Where did you get that card? We went through the evidence before this trial, and I don't recall it being in our possession."

"I uh… it was given to me. By a weird girl. During the last recess."

Murmurs begin to fill the courtroom. Apollo's sweating has gone far past his palms at this point. Kristoph tilts his head, but doesn't open his eyes.

"Strange. Was this girl associated with the police?" The blond turns to Mr. Payne before Apollo can answer; the balding man is silent, sweating bullets, and twitching. "Was the prosecution aware of this evidence?"

Mr. Payne gulps. "N-no, Mr. Gavin, sir. The prosecution wasn't aware that this card existed."

"The girl was young," Apollo jumps in. "She was wearing… a magician's costume, or something." He stares down at his feet. "I doubt that she was associated—"

"That was my daughter," Phoenix interrupts, his face blank.

Kristoph opens his eyes, his icy glare cutting into his former friend. "How convenient that the defendant's daughter would bring something to the court to 'prove' my guilt, especially considering this ex-attorney's track record."

The murmurs grow to a roar, and the judge is forced to bang his gavel. Once the court calms, he continues, "Mr. Wright, do you have an explanation for the court?" he asks, a stern frown adorning his beard.

Phoenix grins, scratches his stubble, and turns to the floor. His turquoise beanie covers the upper part of his face. "I do not, your Honor."

"Objection!" Apollo shouts, slamming his fists down on his desk. "What about the colors of the cards? You knew they were blue, sir—Mr. Gavin!"

"My apologies, stating that the cards were blue was an assumption. My deck at home just so happens to be blue." He beams, moving his hands behind him. "And, as you stated, the photos we had received before the trial were black and white."

"B-but, his bald head! How did you—"

"I was referring to his hat. I disliked it strongly enough for it to be noticeable as I passed him on my way out of the restaurant." He chuckles to himself. "The color of it happened to remind me of bone china. The rim looked silly to me, as well: like a plate." He clears his throat, moving his spiral of hair to the other side of his head. "As the court can clearly see, what the defendant as well as the defense have brought up are simply misunderstandings that the defendant would like to use in a petty attempt to change his inevitable verdict."

"Yes! Yes!" Payne finally joins the discussion, back to looking skeezy and over-confident. "That card is illegal evidence, and the defense cannot disprove any of Mr. Gavin's claims."

"I have to agree with the prosecution on this matter," says the judge. "Does the defense have any further objections?"

Apollo stares at Kristoph. He doesn't detect any strange body language. In fact, he's seeing a fuzzy version of his mentor. _His jacket's bleeding into the collar of his shirt, and… are those black spots?_ he thinks. He looks to Phoenix, but the man's gaze hasn't moved since his previous statement. Apollo barely manages to get out, "No, your Honor."

"The prosecution would like to add that the defendant, Mr. Wright, must be guilty, as there is no other plausible reason for him or his daughter to forge evidence to frame someone else," Payne adds.

The judge nods. "I agree. The witness may leave the stand." Kristoph gives a small nod and leaves the courtroom. He doesn't look towards the defense on his way out. The judge looks to Phoenix and shakes his head. "I had thought that the repossession of your attorney's badge would have taught you a lesson. It appears that I was wrong. It saddens me to say this… but I must lay down my verdict."

Apollo blinks. He waits. Surely, Phoenix will say something. _Someone_ will say something, right? Every time the famed defense attorney, Phoenix Wright, found himself in an unbreakable bind, something would come through. He continues to wait, but it dawns on him that he's the only one who will say something. However, it's no use; he has nothing to say.

"This court finds the defendant, Phoenix Wright, guilty."

Nobody says anything. Nothing strange happens. Phoenix Wright, the defense attorney who never loses, had just lost for the final time. Apollo can't hear the rest of the judge's statements; his ears are ringing like mad. Phoenix pulls out his phone and hurriedly calls someone. He holds it close to his mouth and is barely speaking above a whisper. He hangs up, and the police take him away.

Apollo wanders aimlessly out of the courtroom. He's merely putting one foot in front of the other until he spots Mr. Gavin.

"Are you ready to go, Justice?"

"Mr. Gavin, I—"

"I'm taking you back to the office, correct?"

"I—"

"Now, Justice, I know that one's first case is quite difficult, but we have work to finish today. Besides, if you'd like to discuss the case, this is hardly the place to do so."

Apollo simply nods and lets Kristoph take his arm. They stroll through the parking lot until they eventually find Kristoph's car. The drive to the Gavin & Co. Law Offices is silent.


	2. Chapter 2

Apollo and Kristoph stand beside one another in the elevator, both feeling the upward momentum from their shoes to the top of their heads. Apollo's eyes dart around, attempting to look at anything but his mentor: the lush, wine-colored carpet, the dark-wood bars around the small room... he knew that Mr. Gavin's office did well, but sometimes he failed to notice just how nice the office building was. Even the elevator buttons prove to be more appealing than turning ninety degrees to his left. _Geez, the number five is almost completely worn off._

Finally daring to glance at Kristoph with a mere three floors to go, Apollo isn't getting any vibes from him; the man is staring straight into the elevator door, arms crossed, without much of an expression. Apollo almost cracks a joke along the lines of, "Wow, what the _heck_ is happening on the fifth floor, am I right?" but the elevator opens before he can spit the comedy gold.

They step into the office, and Apollo heads towards his desk in the other room. He's stopped by Kristoph saying, softly but firmly, "Justice, sit down." He gestures towards one of the two velvet loveseats with a glass coffee table between them.

Apollo gulps. Those seats were usually reserved for clients, and most discussions between the two were at Mr. Gavin's desk. Regardless, he sits on the loveseat and Kristoph sits on the one across from him.

"Something's troubling you," Kristoph says, folding his hands into his lap.

"Uh, yes, sir. You're right."

"It also appears that we have quite a bit to discuss, but I'll start." He looks to the floor, a small, pained smile forming on his lips. "I owe you an apology. That trial was… a disaster."

Apollo's hands ball into fists. "B-but, that's my fault, Mr. Gavin. If I had—"

"No, Justice. The truth of the matter is that Phoe—" He catches himself. "Mr. Wright took advantage of our friendship. It's usually difficult to find a client to take a rookie attorney, and I thought that Mr. Wright's request was a kind, helpful gesture; in truth, he requested you in order to take advantage of your inexperience and pin his actions on, well, yours truly."

Apollo thinks for a moment, blinking. "I… do you really think he'd do that, Mr. Gavin? I didn't… It didn't seem like he was lying to me."

Kristoph shakes his head and pushes up his glasses. "That's usually how it seems, Apollo." He breathes, looking downward once more. "I wasn't cautious, and that caused you unnecessary trouble today. For that, I apologize."

Apollo's pulse races; the man, who he borderline idolizes, is apologizing _to him_ for screwing up today's trial. _This… isn't how I thought this was going to go_. "I-It's okay, Mr. Gavin," he blurts. "I'm the idiot who tried to use that sketchy evidence. I should have known better. I..." He pauses. "I tried to get _you_ convicted, sir."

Kristoph smiles at him. "Yes, you should have known better… but so should I. We were both idiots today, Justice, and, as your mentor, my idiocy precedes yours."

He looks like he might laugh if his own mistake didn't irritate him so much. _How does he manage to look irritated while smiling like that?_ Apollo thinks before speaking up. "Wanting to trust your friends doesn't make you an idiot, sir."

Kristoph closes his eyes and tilts his head. His hands clasp together more tightly; Apollo makes out some of his veins despite being at least three feet away from him. "Then tell me, Justice," Kristoph says, using every ounce of energy to restrict further bitterness from lacing his words. "How did we end up in this situation?"

"I-I'm sorry, sir." Apollo sits up. "I didn't mean—"

"I know, Justice. I'm sorry." He opens his eyes, capturing his apprentice's gaze. "I'm a bit flustered right now."

"That's pretty rare for you, isn't it, Mr. Gavin?"

The blond's expression melts into something almost genuine. He adjusts his curl with a lazy hand and says, "You flatter me, Apollo."

Without thinking, Apollo adjusts his own spikes and returns Kristoph's expression. They both laugh a little bit. "So," he says, taking a deep breath. "What should we do about the media? Y'know, with the evidence being fake and all."

"It shouldn't be an issue. Wright is quite famous, so that's where the attention will most likely lie. If not, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. He did use his fame, reputation, and influence to deceive you." He pushes up his glasses and stares out the window behind Apollo. "He's quite popular with your generation of attorneys, is he not?"

"Yes, sir." Apollo thought back to the times his study group had read about the famed Phoenix Wright's trials and how he was able to accomplish the impossible. It gave them hope; nobody really felt up to the task in law school, despite having to be accepted to be there in the first place. But if someone in situations as hopeless as Phoenix's could succeed, surely there was a chance for them. "It'd be rare to find someone in my class who didn't know his name."

"As I thought. He should take all of the attention." He stands, straightening the wrinkles in his jacket and trousers. "You haven't had a chance to make a name for yourself yet, so the press likely won't give you a second thought.

_Yet. He said, "yet."_ The greenhorn attorney felt his heart flutter with pride.

"However, regardless of how the media skews it, that evidence, along with the entire case, has caused us an obscene amount of paperwork."

Apollo's spikes fall flat against his forehead. "Oh yeah. I forgot about that part."

Kristoph chuckles. "It's certainly the least exciting part of our work." He begins the walk to his desk and stops beside Apollo, placing a hand on his shoulder. "There's a good chance that we'll have to stay late in order to finish it all. I'll order us some food. How does that sound?"

Apollo perks up; much to his stomach's dismay, food hadn't even crossed his mind since he'd woken up this morning. "That sounds great, sir!" He leaps to his feet and turns towards Kristoph. "I'll get to work!"

He looks Apollo in the eye. "I'm glad to see you're enthusiastic." He squeezes the shoulder in his grasp before they head to their desks to do the inevitable mountains of paperwork.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: college hard :'(**

After-hours, Apollo sits in the dark. His laptop's blue light illuminates his face. He pauses the video he's watching, grabs another carrot stick, crunches it, and sighs.

"What has you here so late, Justice?"

Apollo nearly leaps out of his chair. "Mr. Gavin!" he shouts, surely loud enough to disturb anyone else who happened to be in the building at this hour. His cheeks turn pink, and he covers his mouth with his hand. "Oh, sorry. You scared me."

"Am I that frightening?"

"N-no, sir, that's not what I meant! I just—you just—"

"It was a joke, Justice." The room's dim light makes him a mere silhouette. "What are you up to?"

Apollo sighs, his cheeks puffing out a bit; he hadn't realized that he was holding his breath. He leans back in his chair and says, "I know I shouldn't, but I'm watching some of Wright's old trials."

Kristoph says nothing for a moment, his lips pressed together as if he were humming. "May I ask why?"

Apollo turns away from his mentor. "I dunno… my peers and I always looked up to him. His trials seemed so… awesome. Unreal. Like he had some supernatural ability to find the truth, regardless of how muddied, painful, or complex it was. But… if the evidence he gave _me_ was faked…" he trails off.

"Yes. It is upsetting." He stares down at his apprentice, trying to bring his gaze back to him. "Sometimes the people we look up to or trust don't turn out to be who we thought they were." He places a gentle hand on Apollo's shoulder. "But that's life, I suppose. We just have to keep going forward. Move on." He uses his free hand to shut the laptop before setting it on Apollo's other shoulder.

"You make it sound so easy," Apollo blurts, spinning his chair to be face-to-face with Kristoph. "It's gotta be hard for you, right? Sure, I looked up to him, but Mr. Wright was your _friend_."

Kristoph smiles. "It's sweet that you're concerned about me, Justice." His fingers trace the seams on his shoulders. Apollo averts his gaze, cheeks red. Kristoph continues, "But I assure you I've developed a thick skin over the years. It's difficult for attorneys to form meaningful relationships. Betrayal is, unfortunately, common." He squeezes the shoulders in his grasp. "Most people don't want to accept the truth, at least when it eventually portrays them in a negative light."

"So I should be prepared for people to hate me?" Apollo tries to make it a joke, but it doesn't really work. Kristoph gives a small laugh, regardless.

"I'm sorry, Justice. I was rambling. I don't want to kill your morale. I don't think that's something you need to worry about quite yet."

Apollo sits up, his hands clenching into fists. "But, from what you said, if my goal is to be a great defense attorney… to find the truth… people are going to hate me, right?"

Kristoph tilts his head forward. "Well, what are your thoughts on that, Justice?" He lets go of him. "Truthfully, I usually don't have this talk with my apprentices until much farther along. But if it's going to come up this way," he pushes up his glasses, "so be it."

Apollo doesn't hesitate. "I don't care!" he shouts, jumping out of his seat. "I became an attorney to uncover the truth, and being a social pariah isn't going to stop me! I have what it takes!" I want to make you proud, he thinks, standing up straight.

Kristoph beams. "You never fail to impress me with your enthusiasm, Apollo. I wish all of my pupils had your attitude."

Apollo's heart swells. "Thank you, sir."

Kristoph nods and clears his throat. "Anyhow, it's quite late. Would you like a ride home, Justice."

"O-oh no, sir! I'm fine!" he says, Kristoph visibly wincing at the volume.

"Are you certain? It's no trouble at all, and, with how the crime rate's been rising, I wouldn't want to end up defending your assailant in court."

Apollo thought back to some of the case files he'd recently sorted through. "...If you're sure it's no trouble."

"If it were a problem, I wouldn't have offered." He tilts his head, crosses his arms, closes his eyes, and grins.


End file.
